Truth and the Snake
by LilyLexis
Summary: Aletheia's pureblood parents tried to cure her scandalous goodness by locking her up and starving her for weeks. Finally free by getting into Hogwarts, her quietness does not let the Slytherin girl go unseen. She has gifts Severus Snape is not ready to ignore, and one thing she doesn't know, is where this is going to take her. To hell and back, from 1st year to the end of the War.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

Aletheia couldn't be more excited to finally hop on a wagon of the Hogwarts Express, on this September 1st of 1989. Not because she couldn't wait to learn spells and charms, but mostly because it meant she could get away from her parents.

Aletheia Coleridge was the daughter of a very traditional Pureblood family, who had lived in America for a few generations. Her parents, Juno and Robert, had developed a great passion for Voldemort and the war he lead in Great Britain. Unfortunately at that time Aletheia was too young for them to join the Death Eaters on the old land, and they had arrived a year after his defeat. After a while, they had started to blame their daughter for not being there during the reign of terror, as she obviously had no talent for evil. The little child was a smiling one, gracious, very intelligent and everything a parent could hope for. But she was too shy and too quiet, and worst of all: not the least interest in the dark side. She had no natural inclination for it, and could not be moved by her parents' attempts. Her nature and character could not stand for it. The little girl did her best to hide her talents as soon as she understood that her parents would never be her allies in life. Her first name meant "truth" and it was oddly well suited to her skills. She had indeed a gift that allowed her, from time to time, to just _know_ the truth. And very rarely, it gave her the ability to read into the future. She had kept that secret well guarded and no one knew of this power.

At almost eleven, Aletheia was a promising but juvenile girl. Her hair was of a dark ebony color and barely reached her shoulders with very small ringlets at the tips. She had a large forehead and delicate dark eyebrows over ice-blue eyes, piercing and oozing intelligence. Her nose was fine and her lips a bit too full and redish for her taste. She had dark circles under her eyes and was way too skinny to be healthy. The reason was that she had spent too many days locked-up into the cellar in her house's basement.

It was her parents' favorite way to punish her for not meeting their expectations. She was of course very well educated in the best Pureblood fashion, speaking French and Italian fluently as well as reading Latin and ancient Greek, dancing perfectly, knowing the Wizarding History by heart, and ignoring everything about the Muggle world. Her only flaw was her patent distaste for the dark.

Therefore, the perfectly well dressed with velvet robes and carrying an expensive leather luggage little girl was most anxious to get into the Hogwarts Express wagon and forget all about her family and home for the next months. She barely spared a glance for her parents when they got on the platform and hopped on, feeling guilty that the only "dark thoughts" she could produce were that of her parents being trampled on by the damn train. She got to an empty wagon where she took a seat and began to read quietly her Potions textbook. After a few minutes, a boy entered and introduced himself as Terence Higgs, followed by a Miles Bletchey and a Lucian Bole. The last one was a second year Slytherin, the others were first years, but pretty sure to get into the same house as their elder. Aletheia spoke very little, but acknowledged them and declared that she would most likely end up into Slytherin as well. She knew that they would give her peace knowing that and that was all she was asking for. When the trolley full of sweets went their way she dismissed it but Terence Higgs, who was clearly the nicer of the three most definitely "Slytherin" boys, offered her a Chocolate Frog. She thanked him with a smile and looked at the card of Albus Dumbledore she got.

Aletheia had no inclination towards the Dark side of magic, but she was little interested in having a "side" at all. She was a quiet and calm child, who only desired to learn and be left alone in peace, not bothered nor tortured. She didn't know if she thought that Albus Dumbledore was really "the greatest wizard of the age", and she didn't really care. What she cared about was peace, silence, and getting into Slytherin House. She didn't mind about what was said of it, but she knew that if she didn't get into it, she would be killed or worse – tortured and locked-up for days and weeks – by her parents. Such defiance as getting into any other House would likely be the last thing she would have done in her life. For the remainder of the journey she gazed through the window, admiring the beauty of the countryside, and trying not to listen too much at the stupid and prejudiced words of Bletchey and Bole. These two she would definitely stay far from and she would pay attention not to get in their way. All in all, Aletheia thought that she was quite a coward, and that she liked it enough. She had no noble goals, no ideals but to stay alive until she came of age. She knew that then she would be free, but she had no idea of what to do at this point. She had no passion, no career wish, no dream but to get away from it all. Sometimes she thought it was a miracle she hadn't committed suicide yet, and never had the will to. She would get through the next seven years of class by studying day and night if need be, and then she hoped that maybe she would find something that she would be likely to enjoy doing.

The young girl was still thinking about all of this when the train stopped at the station, and she followed the first-year boys to the little boats that would bring them to the castle. Aletheia was hardly ever moved, but she had to admit that the school was quite impressive. She immediately felt that she could get comfortable quickly enough, and smiled to herself while following the others to the Great Hall. She watched the whole ceremony unfold before her on a daze, not really hearing or seeing anything. When she was called to sit under the Sorting Hat, she finally woke up from her daydreaming and her heart started to beat madly.

She didn't know what had happened, but it had happened in just a few seconds. She sat on the stool, Professor McGonagall went to put the Sorting Hat on her head, but the filthy object had only just touched her hair when it screamed "SLYTHERIN".

Granted, her parents were good enough for this particular House, but she thought that at least the Hat would be put on her head to search inside her mind for a few moments what would be best for her, like it did with the others! She was not cunning, nor ambitious, so she told herself that her need for self-preservation and the purity of her blood had done the job. 'Well enough' she thought, happy that her parents would let her live. Maybe they wouldn't even lock her down in the cellar next summer. 'Better not get my hopes up'…

She didn't see that the Hat's behavior had caught the attention of one Head of House and several students in both Slytherin and Gryffindor, but she wouldn't have cared either way. Now that this matter was settled, she sat and ate like there would be no tomorrow to fill her very empty stomach, daydreaming about anything that would cross her mind.

Indeed, the daydreaming went too far when it was suddenly the moment she should have listened and followed the group of first-years led by the Head Girl to her dormitory. She was lost, alone in the cold corridors of the dungeons. Not feeling much reassured she walked around, trying to find someone.

"May I know why a young student is wandering in the corridors? Are you wishing for a detention on your first day?" asked a deep velvety voice, whose owner was none other than Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin and Potions Master. He didn't see her well but realized that she might be a first year, already lost in the maze that was the castle, and relaxed his stance. Then he saw it was the girl whose head the Hat had barely touched before sorting her. He tried to look into her eyes when she finally lifted them to meet his. A glimpse of the misery of her life at home got into his mind, and suddenly he was drawn to her haunted eyes until she shook her head and looked away.

"I apologize, Professor. I believe I have lost my group. I don't know where is my dormitory", she finally answered. She had felt the push of his legilimency on her and didn't want to know what he had seen.

He looked at her in silence for a moment. "Follow me, I will take you there", he offered and walked in the other direction, robes billowing behind him.

She found the teacher quite impressive, but loved the sound of his voice. It made her feel safe somehow. She knew he had seen her in the cellar, seen her wait to be released, alone and without any food. But he had only looked at her in understanding – not pity – and hadn't dared ask any question. She was grateful for his restrain.

"'Salazar' is this week's password. It is quite easy, for the first year to remember. It will change next week for a monthly new password, harder to find out," he explained when they got in front of the Common Room's portrait. He looked at her for a moment and asked "What is your name?"

"I'm Aletheia Coleridge, Professor. But I would rather be called Thea Coleridge, if that is no trouble" she said without looking at him.

"Very well, I should inform the teachers of your desire, Miss Coleridge. Your dormitory is the highest one on the right side of the stairs; I believe you will find your luggage at the foot of your bed. Don't wander again in the corridors at night. Sleep well, now."

"Good night Professor, and thank you," she answered politely with a little smile.

He barely nodded at her before turning back and leaving.

All in all, Aletheia's first two years had been everything she had hoped for, and then some. She loved studying and was excelling in every single subject, while particularly fond of Potions. She had a strong attachment to the man who had led her to her Common Room on her first day, even if he was not the easiest-going man on earth. Quite the contrary, he was rather hard on his students, but he nice enough to her. She saw that her love of Potions endeared her to him, and he had taken the habit to put detailed appreciations on her tests corrections. He even gave her titles of books that might appeal to her and once he had asked her what she thought about one of them. The only thing was that even if he had agreed to tell the teachers, when he didn't call her "Miss Coleridge" – which was almost always the case – he never called her "Thea" but stuck to her real first name. She found after a few occurrences that she didn't actually mind him being the only person calling her that.

But Snape was not alone in admiring her abilities; in fact every teachers liked her. Though they were a bit worried about her lonesome character. She was quite withdrawn and even seemed to be trying to hide her talents. She never put her hand up in class, but always answered right when questioned. Outside of class, she seemed to have no friend even though the first-year Slytherin Terence Higgs and first-years Gryffindor twin brothers Fred and George Weasley were nice enough with her when they met in the corridors or sometimes sat together in class or during meals.

She spent every holiday at school, except from the summer break when everyone had to return at home. She dreaded these times and it showed well enough on her face. It had disturbed Snape to see her so distressed before her first year's summer, and maddened him to see her come back in September looking exhausted and under-nourished.

Her parents had been proud of her sorting, but had hoped that her Slytherin friends would have changed her into a dark-magic lover or something of the sort. When they found out that she hadn't changed for a bit and that she didn't even have friends, they had been furious, and sent her back to the cellar, with a loaf of bread and a glass of water.

The summer of her second year had been pretty much the same, and she dreaded the next four to come. The only unexpected light had been the letters she received from the only people who came close to friends when she was concerned: the Weasley twins and Terrence. The twins had wrote few news from their summer and lots of jokes, and a little "see you soon" note was attached from their brothers Percy and Charlie – the handsome Gryffindor Quidditch team's captain. She had burnt the letter right after reading it, too afraid that her parents would read it. Terrence's letter was short as well – a real twelve-years old boy's one – and nice enough, asking how she was and if she was having a good time. She answered only to him – and not very truthfully – , hoping the twins wouldn't mind not receiving a reply.

The summer over, it was finally the start of her third year, and she couldn't wait to get back to what now seemed a priceless heaven to her. She made a few hellos and barely glanced at her parents before boarding the train, soon joined by Terrence and his friends. When they were almost arrived at the station, a sudden rumor got to them.

"Harry Potter is on the train"


	2. Chapter 2 - part 1

Author note : Thanks to the people reading, and for the follows and favorite ! I hope you enjoyed reading the first chapter of Aletheia (and Snape)'s story. I had planned for the events taking place during The Philosopher's Stone to take only a small chapter. But I got carried a way and here is the first part of a two-parts-long chapter. I hope you'll enjoy getting to know Aletheia better and seeing her grow up, but the real fun starts in the chapters that will follow the events of The Goblet of Fire. Can't wait to be there !

_Previously : _

_"Harry Potter is on the train"_

* * *

Hearing the news, Aletheia closed her eyes in expectation of what would come. The cute little Malfoy suddenly seemed lost in his thoughts. Her Slytherin acquaintances had introduced the boy when they showed up in her wagon.

"Hello Thea, how was your summer?" Terrence had asked with a smile. She had answered non-committedly and gone back to read her book. "Let me introduce you Draco Malfoy, the son of Lucius Malfoy," he had added then.

She had lifted her eyes to them and smiled at the young boy who looked to be trying to look like a proud Pureblood Slytherin and was probably anxious about how Hogwarts would be and in which House he would be sorted. She found him cute enough to invite him to seat next to her and started to read again.

Aletheia saw the famous Harry Potter for the first time when he was on the stool to be sorted. The process took a long time, contrarily to Draco's, who had went through the exact same experience she had in first year, the Hat barely touching his hair before shouting "Slytherin". She saw that her Potions Professor was quite absorbed by the new celebrity, but looked pained and angry about his presence in the same room as he. She wondered why it was, and why one wing of the Castle was suddenly made "off-limit" by Dumbledore's speech. Either way, the need to fill her starved-stomach was much stronger and she went to stuff her mouth with every delicacy she could put her hand on.

The next day, "Harry Potter" was on everybody's mouth and she was already growing tired of it. By the weekend, she had heard about how Snape acted during the first-year Gryffindor/Slytherin Potion class. Apparently, he had completely bashed Harry and his friends, while favoring Draco. It wasn't much surprising. He had never been a nice teacher, excepted to her and some of his favorite Slytherins, maybe. But she had noticed changes in him. He was more withdrawn, a lot angrier and nastier that he had been for the two previous years.

Everything became suddenly more exciting at the great Halloween Feast. Aletheia was unashamedly stuffing her face with delicious food when the weird Professor Quirrell rushed in the Great Hall.

He yelled "There's a Troll in the dungeons!" before fainting and putting everyone in a crazy frenzy. Dumbledore stood up and finally got the calm back to the Hall, asking the Head Boys and Girls to get the students back to their dormitory. Not knowing exactly why she was doing it, Aletheia followed Snape when she saw him in a corridor, heading somewhere. After a few seconds, the Potions Master flipped to her with an angry scowl.

"What are you doing, Aletheia? Why are you not back to your dorm?" he asked with venom.

"I saw you in the corridor. I was daydreaming again I think. I don't know…," she answered calmly, impressed but trying not to show it.

"The place is not safe, you should…" Aletheia didn't hear what he was saying as she spotted Harry Potter and his friend Ron Weasley running behind him in silence, not at all in the direction of their dorm. She didn't say a word as she wondered what they could be doing. "Do you hear me, Aletheia?! Back. To. Your. Dorm. Or do you want a detention?" he was exasperated and in a hurry to be left alone. He even looked a bit scared.

"Yes Professor Snape, I heard you. I apologize," she said while turning back.

"Miss Coleridge," she didn't turn to him but halted. "Please be careful. The troll is not in the dungeon anymore I believe, but it still could be dangerous down there".

She nodded and left.

Unfazed by the madness that possessed everyone about a troll strolling around the castle, she went directly to her dorm. Lain down on her bed, she couldn't find sleep. She was obsessed by the reason that could have gotten Snape in such a state. He had looked scared and worried. A troll was a big monster, but she couldn't believe that such a stupid creature could even _alarm_ the Potions Master. There was something else going on. She _knew_ it.

In the morning, everyone had something to say about the Troll and the Halloween feast, especially Gryffindors. The Weasley twins came across her in a corridor and told her how Harry and his friends had put the Troll down and that they had seen a bloodied gash on the leg of a very angry Snape. He hadn't been hurt yet when she had followed him that night. She wondered if he had made an unfortunate encounter with the troll, or if something else entirely had happened. The only thing she could do was brew an ointment she had read about in an Advanced Potions book. The preparation was perfect, so Aletheia poured it in her most beautiful glass vial, corked it, and placed the container in her bag. The excitement she felt at having made something for him and the expectation of giving him took her by surprise, but it wasn't totally unwelcomed. It was unusual to her to experience so many feelings and she seemed to be discovering new ones all the time. Especially when dealing with her Potions Master. Life – now that she was at Hogwarts – appeared to be much more interesting and exciting than it had ever been in the previous thirteen years of her existence. But courage is not a particularly striking Slytherin trait, and the excitement she had once felt about handing Snape her gift had turned to unbearable nervousness. Instead, she decided to put it discreetly on his desk on her way out.

"Miss Coleridge," he called just as her right foot was crossing the threshold of the class. She paused and very slowly turned to face him. He didn't look pleased. "A word, if you will."

Her fellow classmates looked at her apprehensively and left quickly, leaving her alone with the most frightening teacher of Great Britain. He looked at her expectantly but she stayed silent and tried to swallow her saliva without chocking on it.

"Why did you put… _this_ on my desk, I wonder?" His voice sounded dangerously smooth.

"It's a healing ointment, Professor," she whispered, trying not to look at the floor but avoiding his eyes all the same.

"I know what it is, it's not what I asked you," he snapped at her. "It's a perfectly brewed healing ointment that you're not supposed to be able to make before your fifth year…"

"I brewed it myself!" she cut him instinctively, trying to defend herself. If he thought she had stole it she could be in a lot of troubles. And it was insulting her intelligence. How could he think that of her, anyway?!

"I _know_ you brewed it yourself. I asked you a simple thing: _why_ did you put it on _my_ desk? Did you assign yourself an extra exercice?" he insisted.

She swallowed hard and breathed out, embarrassed and pretty much screwed. "I… left it on your desk… because I… you… have a gash on your leg. I thought…"

"I am quite sure that you heard this nonsense from one of your red-headed friends, but I can assure you, Miss Coleridge, that my leg is perfectly fine. As for why you would think I don't have my own stock of healing ointment and why you would think it your role to make one for me, I cannot fathom. Please refrain from doing something as silly as this in the future, as you are quickly turning into a little know-it-all like that despicable Granger girl."

This, Aletheia had not expected. She stood before him, petrified and numb. She knew how cold and spiteful he could be, but he had never directed such a side of him at her. Granted, her idea now seemed completely childish and foolish, but the shock of his words took time to sink in. She gulped back tears she didn't even know she possessed and nodded before fleeing the classroom.

Once she was gone, the professor flicked the door closed and put his face in his hands. He had lost his temper and snapped at her, the only student he really enjoyed teaching to, and the only one who did not appeared to be terrified or disgusted (or both) by him. He had been so terribly angry at the three little brats for taking down the troll. Then his anger had turned to fury when McGonagall rewarded them for their completely inconsiderate and downright suicidal behavior. He had much more important to deal with than the fame issues of a stupid little orphan star. And they had seen the gash, and had to tell Aletheia! Who else had they spoken about it to? They did not know that what was going on in the school at that time was way out of their league and should not be taken lightly.

When he had found the vial on his desk… He had known without question that it was from her. First, because he had been observing her for quite some time this period. She had strolled in his class looking happier than he had ever seen her, and she had gradually turned a bit green, looking almost frightened at the end of the class. He was curious about her unusual behavior. She might have thought he was doing something else entirely, but his eyes were on her when she had gently put the vial on his desk. Then, he had hurried to it, opened it and sniffed the pomade before testing it on his skin. It was perfect, as expected. The present in itself, was anything but. He had lost his temper with her, and now the young girl was scared and probably angrily crying somewhere.

This year felt like it was going to be a very long one…

That night though, when he was at last alone in his quarters, he sat down on his couch and lifted his pants' right leg. The gash was nasty and deep, stinging as hell. Snape let a deep breath out and reached for the glass-vial a brunette third-year had left him earlier that day. He delicately massaged it on his wound and immediately felt slightly better.

When Severus Snape prowled to the Great Hall to have a nice cup of black coffee and a toast or two, he noticed two things. First, he was still limping slightly in spite of the ointment. Second, Aletheia was nowhere to be seen. He had no intention to apologize or make any other frivolous attempt at forgiveness, but he wondered guiltily if she was fine. Even if he would rather die than admit it.

Then he noticed a third thing. The little Trio-of-Wonders was heavily whispering while staring at him in what they probably deemed a discreet way. Bloody Gryffindors.

A week later, he was still limping, and very much in pain. That blasted three-headed dog could really make some damage when it wanted to! Snape had applied his own balm along with the one Aletheia had made for him. This kind of magical wound took time to heal. It woke him up at night and his attempts at hiding his limp were taxing.

His class of third year Slytherins went smoothly, fortunately for _them_. The fifth-years of the previous period were undisciplined enough to have them scrub cauldrons for two hours. Without magic. This had been glorious. The best part of his day. Yet.

Much to his surprise, Aletheia stayed after her classmates had gladly left the class and approached him with less fear than he had expected. She coughed once to get herself together and suddenly stared him in the eyes. He was astonished to see care, concern and determination in her blue orbs instead of resentment and anger.

"I made you another one. I tried to make it a bit different, I hope it will be stronger and ease both pain and limp," she stated briskly before breathing in again. "You can apply it like the other one," she continued.

They stared at each other for a moment, until he took the vial, opened it and smelled it. The teacher closed his eyes before nodding at her without a word. She let out a little – almost imperceptible – smile and strolled off the room.

The next few weeks went without any other troubles. Aletheia went to class day after day, studying quite earnestly. She had noticed with satisfaction that her favorite professor's limp had disappeared. He looked as displeased with Harry's presence as ever but he had not snapped at her again. Snape actually seemed to have gone back to his usual behavior when it came to her, she realized with glee.

Aside from her own studies, she liked to help the young Malfoy with his assignments. The blonde was quite studious when he was not planning to get back at Harry for whatever fight went on between the two. The boy had a good potential and enjoyed Potions almost as much as she did. One day, he had confided that he was Snape's godson. The reason for the teacher's affection for Draco suddenly became clear and she had liked to observe them interact with each other as much as she could.

Aletheia had not made more friends than she had in her previous years, but the Weasley twins seemed fairly taken with her. She knew they were not "friends" as the common definition of the word – acquaintances, rather –, but they talked to her every time they met her in the corridors. The boys always managed to make her laugh. It was quite new to Thea to have such a good time with other people. She didn't remember laughing much in her home with her parents, and her complete lack of friends had not helped. Now, she started to understand how some people could affect one's life. They could make it a living hell, or an agreeable journey. She was daydreaming – again – in the corridors when she saw the two redheads.

"Hey guys" she smiled nicely.

"Hello, pretty Thea!" beamed one of the boys. George, she reckoned.

"How are you doing…" started Fred.

"… on this lovely day ?" his brother finished.

"I'm fine, thank you George. Fred. "

They chitchatted for a while, and the twins finally took their leave. As they were turning for another corridor, they stopped and George ran back to her.

"I forgot! Will you come to the match?!" he had a huge expecting grin plastered on his face. They were both beaters on the Gryffindor team, and Harry had made Seeker.

"I think I should. It seems like an important one," she was hesitant. Aletheia had no passion for Quidditch but she realized that she was expected to be there.

"Great! See you tomorrow on the field, then!" he ran back to his brother before addressing her a quick flying kiss.

The young girl smiled, blushing a bit against her own will, before going back to her dormitory.

Aletheia knew it wasn't a good idea to go to the Quidditch match. Aside from the biting cold that pierced through her too-light robes, she was greeted by members of both teams. Terence, Bole and the other Slytherins had said 'hi' when they had spotted her while doing their warming flies, and so had the Weasley twins. That had brought her frowns from her fellow Slytherins and her eyes had immediately shot to their Head of House. He was watching her, as she had feared, with a scowl. She felt like a ton of ice had been slipped inside her uniform. His eyes left her when he noticed that she was looking at him with guilt.

Snape – unquestionably irritated with the attention his best student got from Gryffindor imbeciles – surprised himself by feeling guilty. She had sought his reaction instantly and had turned suddenly contrite. It wasn't fair to make her feel that way about her friends. He knew for a fact that she wasn't crowded with compeers, and every child needed companions. Himself had suffered from the lack of friends, and he had had Lily for a long time. The teacher suspected that her childhood had been quite lonely, muck like his.

That match was a complete disaster, as far as Aletheia was concerned. First, she had somewhat disappointed her teacher by her choice of friends. Second, Harry had been targeted. His broom suddenly got completely off control and she had seen exactly who was responsible. Even though she shouldn't have been, she was in fact staring at Snape when everything happened. In her peripheral vision, she saw that at some point, Professor Quirrell had started muttering something. She thought nothing of it, the man was a complete lunatic. When suddenly there was a wave of noise. She watched back what was happening on the match and saw that Harry was about to fall off his broom. Thea stared back at her teacher, trying to ask him to do something but he wasn't looking at her. No, he was concentrating on the young boy and muttering an incantation. The broom seemed to be acting out, not knowing which wizard to answer to, until Hermione – well hidden – put Snape's robes on fire. The Slytherin jumped up seeing the flames and knocked Quirrell off in the meantime. Not knowing who had done that and angry beyond belief, the Potions Masters extinguished the fire and looked around him. When he saw she was looking his way, he mouthed the words "my office" before stepping down.

"Are you alright, Professor Snape?" she asked while entering his office quietly, an hour later after the incident.

"I'm fine," he snapped before realizing it. "I'm not burnt, thank you," he cooled down and sat back down behind his desk. "Please sit".

"It was Quirrell, Sir!" she blurted out as soon as she was on the seat.

He watched her silently with careful eyes. For a long moment, he said nothing and seemed lost in his thoughts. Indeed, he was wondering how much he could divulge to his student, and how much he could trust her. Meanwhile, Aletheia felt very tense. Maybe she shouldn't have been so direct, maybe she should have hidden what she knew. His eyes were searching her in the deepest corners of her soul. She was dying for him to speak.

"It was," he conceded and sighed. "But you must keep that knowledge to yourself, Miss Coleridge. You must tell no one," he warned. He looked nervous and worried. "I cannot speak of it, but you must strive to act as if you didn't know anything of the truth. Do not act differently with Professor Quirrell, it is very important, Miss Coleridge, do you understand?"

They both kept silent for long minutes, watching each other with anxiety.

"I understand," she replied. "I also understand that there is something really wrong in Hogwarts this year. I don't know what it is, but I know it has something to do with Harry Potter's arrival. I will be careful around Professor Quirrell, but please be careful around Potter and his friends. If Granger is ready to put fire to your robes, then…"

"Granger?!" Snape shouted, leaping to his feet in outrage.

Aletheia suddenly felt light-headed. She had not intended to reveal that fact to him at all. She had wanted to calm him down and warn him, not provoke his wrath.

"I didn't mean to tell you that. Please, you mustn't do anything against her! You were not supposed to know, and she is a great protector to her friend. If he loses her then he will be in even more danger that I believe he is in already. I know she should be punished, but had she not mistaken you for the wrong-doer, we would have rejoiced to her quick-thinking," she pleaded.

How that young girl could calm him down with a few words and her entrancing blue eyes was beyond his comprehension. But it worked, and he plumped himself back down at his desk.

"It may be so," he granted. They looked at each other for a while before he spoke again. "I won't be keeping you from your occupations any longer, Miss Coleridge. You can leave, thank you for stopping by." She stood up slowly and grabbed her bag. "The ointment you made healed my wound, I thought you should be aware. The alterations you made were quite smart, I suggest you write me a paper about it."

"Yes, Sir!" she beamed with delight. "Thank you," she added before opening the door.

"Be careful, Aletheia," he insisted when she granted him one last look.

"Good day Professor."


End file.
